Twisted
by Phoenix-Fire Power
Summary: After the financial gang bang happened and burdened by the memories America chooses to commit suicide in order to escape the pain. Tormented by guilt England prepares a spell to bring him back. Only America had no desire to come back. Rated M for safety.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**This is another de-anon from the kink meme. However something else is that I am also continuing it there.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

"Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Alfred F. Jones." The priest continued to say.

Canada kept his gaze on the ground solely. There were tears running down his face although he was doing his best to keep the sobs in. Next to him Mexico gripped his arm tightly. She didn't try to stop herself. She was sobbing loudly and it filled the air.

Canada forced himself to lift his head and look around. His gaze traveled over everyone one at the funeral. America's boss stood next to his family with a look of grief on his face. His hands were in front of him and he was gripping them tightly.

Everyone was wearing black. Only Canada and Mexico weren't. They were both wearing clothes America had made for them. A dress for Mexico and a suit for him, the image of the American flag were printed on them everywhere.

The members of the G8 were here as well. They had the nerve to look sad. To look shocked and grief-stricken. Canada felt his hands start to shake from anger. Mexico tightened her grip on his arm.

"You promised me." she hissed at him. "That if you lost control that would mean that I would able to as well. And let me tell you that if you let me at them, there won't be anything of them left for you."

Canada closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down. He opened his eyes when he heard Mexico moan softly.

He glanced behind him and felt his heart drop.

The men were bringing the casket in.

It was a majestic casket there was no doubt of that. A brilliant brown and made from sturdy wood, mahogany maybe. There were eight people carrying it in. Three on each of the side and one in the back and one in the front. When they laid it on the ground there was an American flag draped on top of it and tucked into the sides.

Mexico began to shake slightly as more tears fell down her face. Canada forced himself to keep breathing.

"If anyone wishes to come up and say a few words to the body before it is lowered, this is your chance." the priest said stepping away.

When Canada saw England moving towards the casket he quickly took the few steps which brought him in front of England.

"Don't you fucking dare try to say anything to him." Canada hissed.

England frowned. "I wish to say my last words."

"You already did England." Canada said before leaning closer. "'Come to my house America to have a cup of coffee and talk.' Those were your last words to him."

He reached out and grabbed France who had tried to walk past him and pushed him back behind England. He then looked up at the others. Both Italy's, Germany, Japan, Russia, England, and France.

"All of you." he said quietly. "Don't have the right to say anything to my brother."

He then turned and walked beside Mexico to the casket. In her arms was a bouquet of random flowers. If he didn't know any better he would have said that she had simply ripped the ones from her garden and stuffed them into paper.

They both silently walked to the casket. Mexico gently laid the flowers on the top before placing her hand on the flag. Canada slid his hand over the flag as he reached into his coat pocket.

He pulled the item out of his coat pocket. It was a dream catcher, an exact replica of the one hanging in his room over his bed.

The only two their mother had ever made in her life.

He lifted the lid slightly, but not enough to see the body. He had no desire to see the rotting and decaying body that was once his energetic and full of life and hamburgers brother. He slid the dream catcher into the casket before shutting it closed.

He glanced at Mexico who had her head bowed and was quietly saying a prayer. He bowed his head and mumbled one in his native language. Their first language.

The language that out of all personifications he and his brother had known.

He gently took Mexico's arm and pulled her away. The once vibrant and independent Mexico now let herself be led away from the box containing their beloved brother.

He nodded at America's boss who then in turned nodded to the ones who had bring Americas casket in. They took their cue and quickly picked up the casket once more and began lowering it into the ground.

The reality finally hit Canada. His brother. His America. His other half. The one he had crawled in with countless times as a child, a teenager, as an adult into bed with. The one who had understood him more than anyone. The one who would joke with him and then wink. The one who shared his lunch with him whenever he forgot his. The one with eyes so blue as the open skies.

Was dead.

Canada fell to his knees and slumped forward. Mexico followed him as she leaned on him sobbing.

He tried to put his arms around her in a sense of comfort but all he was able to do was clutch at her and sob along with her.

He forced himself to keep his eyes open. He forced himself to watch as the casket was lowered. He forced himself to watch as they started to fill the hole with dirt. He forced himself to watch as they patted the dirt down. He forced himself to watch as they placed the tombstone on the ground and straightened it. He forced himself to watch as the soldiers saluted to the grave.

And then finally it was over.

Canada stood on shaking legs. He turned and walked away fully intended to go to Americas house and finally clean it all up. Clean up the blood that was splattered on the walls along with brain matter. Air out the house that still smelled of death.

Something flew across the sky caught his attention. Had it been night he would have thought that it was a shooting star. The thing flew in the sky for a moment making him think that it was an airplane or helicopter. Squinting towards it he suddenly realized what it really was.

It seemed even Tony was saying his goodbye to America before leaving.

Slowly the crowd left the graveyard. They had lives to get back to after all. Slowly no one was left.

Except one.

England remained watching the tombstone alone.

**Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**Don't really have much to say here.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own Hetalia.**

England didn't move as the hours went by. The sun settled and the moon and stars rose and still he didn't move. His eyes were trained on the tombstone that resided in the ground.

"Alfred F. Jones. America. Date of birth unknown. "Give me liberty or give me death."" it read.

It was almost typical what would be placed on the tombstone. However it was very unlike America. This was entirely too plain and lifeless to symbolize the vibrant and full of life America had been.

And he was to blame.

Although he shared the blame with others most of it is on him. He had been the one to invite America to his house for that night. He had been the one to suggest it.

When it had been over England had immediately went to his bathroom and vomited into the toilet ashamed of what he had done. His stomach emptied itself until there was nothing left and even then it still continued.

And now America was gone.

However not for long.

He pulled out the items from his coat. The items needed in this taboo and forbidden ritual.

It didn't matter the cost, all that mattered was that he brought America back.

But first he would have to dig up the body.

He opted not to use magic. He would use his hands. A small punishment for a crime he will gladly forever repay.

He immediately fell to his knees and dug his hands into the dirt. There hadn't been enough time for the earth to harden thankfully and it was still moist enough that he could easily shift through it.

Thunder loomed over head. He glanced upwards for a moment before returning to the task at hand.

When it started to rain he paid it no attention. He wouldn't take a single break until he finished doing this.

Until he righted the wrong.

He wiped the rain water and the sweat off his brow. He was about three feet deep into the hole and could practically feel the coffin.

He didn't stop until he felt his hands touch the wood of the coffin.

He stood and waved his arm. Slowly the coffin floated into the air.

He would have gladly lifted it however combined with its weight and the rain it would be most likely that he would accidently drop it and perhaps damage the body.

He set it gently on the ground. He softly brushed some of the dirt off the flag on top of it before he dug his nails into the side and pried the lid off.

America's nearly perfect body met him. He covered his nose as the scent of decay and rotten flesh filled the air.

And there. The reason that there wasn't an open casket funeral.

The bullet hole in the side of his head.

He looked rather serene England thought to himself. He reached out and gently stroked Americas face as he had done years ago when this one had been a child.

He took the items he had placed on the ground and then picked up the book. He turned to the page he had marked and with a deep breath started to chant.

The effect was almost immediate. A glow started to surround the items in his hands and slowly America as well. Thunder and lightning flashed overhead and the rain continued to pour down relentlessly.

He could feel the power of the spell started to come forth. His own energy filled the air and flowed into the younger man.

* * *

><p>America for the first time in months was at peace.<p>

He couldn't remember much of life before this place. He couldn't remember why he had wanted to come to this place. All he knew was here and a few scattered memories.

He remembered a Canada who had shined his entire life. An England whom he had always looked for approval from. A Russia whom he had loved. A Mexico who was protective and wonderful.

America sighed happily as the darkness swirled around him. He lifted his arm almost lazily and watched as the shadows twirled around and gently glided over him like the calm sea water he had loved swimming in.

He remembered the feel of earth underneath his feet and the smell of fresh air. He had no desire to return to any of that. The moment he had a longing for it he remembered them all clear as if they were before him.

The darkness took very careful protection and care of its beloved children.

A shadow glided along his face, if he concentrated enough it could almost become a hand that soothed him time and time again or one that merely loved him.

The same hands that so lovingly and caringly had taken him from the world of hurt and pain and into this world of pleasure and peace.

There was a different sensation however. One that he knew immediately wasn't his beloved darkness.

He frowned for a moment wondering what it was before it grabbed him by his body and pulled.

He gave a shout. His hands going about desperately wanting something to hold onto.

The darkness curled around him and pulled him back, unwilling to let him go to whoever was pulling him so intently.

To whoever was pulling him back to the world of hurt and pain.

The darkness hesitated for a moment before it did something else. America could feel it entering him this time. It was absorbed into his skin and into his body.

Into his heart and into his soul.

It filled him entirely.

It knew that it couldn't keep him here, not when the one on the other side was pulling so tightly, without hurting him so it gave him this gift.

It.

Its power and abilities to do as he wish on whoever was doing this as to quickly return to her loving embrace.

Anger filled him at the one who was taking him away from this peace and his beloved darkness.

The moment the darkness allowed him to go memories filled him.

Burning. Fire. Bombs. Explosions. Crashing.

Rape. Raperaperaperaperaperape.

He screamed. Memories continued to flow in relentlessly.

Memories of them. Of what they had done to him.

"Worthless." "You're not a hero, you can't save anyone." "Stupid little whore." "You were asking for this all this time."

"You deserve this."

France. North Italy. South Italy. Germany. Prussia. Japan. England. Russia.

The Italians, Japan, and the Germans. He thought they had been his friends.

France and England. Like fathers to him.

Russia. The only nation he had ever loved.

All of them betrayed him.

All of them.

All of them.

Betrayed.

Betrayed.

Him.

An animalistic scream tore through his throat. Anger and a desire for revenge coursed through him as well as the pitiful clawing of trying to go back. To go back to the darkness.

He felt himself being torn into two. He screamed as the pain coursed through him. As pain and anger merged.

He saw a light, small and dim but a light nonetheless.

The one who had dragged him away was there.

He continued forward.

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**Don't really have that much to say.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own anything.**

England was panting and watching anxiously. The spell had taken more out of him than he thought it would.

All of a sudden Americas back arched upwards and there was an unmistakable sound of a person gasping for air.

America continued to gasp and he curled into a slight ball on his side as he gulped in the much needed air. In front of England's eyes the rotting flesh started to heal.

Filled with joy England came forward and placed a hand on America's shoulders. "America? Lad? Are you alright?"

America's eyes were glazed over however they started to clear when he locked them on England. America didn't move for a moment.

Suddenly his right arm flashed forward and he grabbed England by the throat.

England gasped and clutched at his arm. "Am-America!"

Leaning close to the older nation America hissed "Why the hell did you bring me back?"

Without waiting for an answer America threw England onto the ground and a few feet away.

When England landed he scrambled back without taking his gaze off of America.

America took a few steps towards him before falling to his knees. He groaned slightly as he leaned against his tombstone.

England didn't waste a moment as he stood and ran as fast as he was able to.

Something horribly wrong had happened.

* * *

><p>America was breathing heavily as he leaned on the tombstone. A quick look showed that it was his. He actually managed a small smile at the sentence that most likely Canada had chosen.<p>

His body. It wasn't used to being alive anymore. It needed time for his heart to completely have the blood circulate and for feeling and movement to be restored.

He watched as England ran away. The coward. He needed to finish what he started.

They all did.

America would go back to the darkness he decided. But first he wanted to take care of something here.

Namely the ones who had raped him. They all deserved to die as well.

But to do so he would need allies beside him. Ones who would trust in him and follow him.

Who can he trust?

Canada and Mexico were the first ones that came to mind immediately. His brother and sister. Who else would help him and who else would he be able to trust more than his siblings?

France and Spain.

France had colonized Canada before England had come. He was like a father to Canada.

And the same thing with Mexico. She had ties to Spain who in turn had ties to South Italy.

Neither one could be trusted.

He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. The falling rain was in a sense soothing to him as it dripped down his body leaving cool rivers in its wake.

Soon he was asleep. Cradled by the falling rain, the warm earth, and his own mind.

It was nighttime once more when he woke up. He brought his hands up and flexed them. He winched as a small shiver of pain shot up his arms before moving his limbs.

He slowly stood on shaking legs and took a step forward. He immediately fell to the ground before he stood once more. He took a step forward. Then another. Then another. And another.

He didn't pay any attention to his surroundings. He concentrated on his body into getting it to listen to him once more.

Soon he was running around the cemetery. He stretched his limbs and massaged any sore places on his body.

A sign caught his attention.

'Virginian Graveyard. Circa 1875.'

This graveyard. It was so familiar to him.

He turned around and almost on an impulse he started walking to a certain grave. His feet and heart knew where to go even if his mind didn't.

He walked to nearly the back of the cemetery. Where the oldest graves were since the beginning of this place.

Finally he stopped in front of two graves that were side by side and he realized just why he had brought himself here and why this place was so familiar.

The tombstones were faded and worn. However he knew the words as well as his Declaration of Independence.

The one on the right read Anthony B. Jones. August 13th 1884-August 13th 1902.

The one on the left read Emily B. Jones. August 13th 1884-August 13th 1902.

Both of them had a single sentence on them. The same sentence.

'Within us the power of the land, tied to the earth and to the people.'

This was his son and daughter.

America reached out and gently touched the tombstones. He remembered the day they were buried. Brother and sister, twins.

Both had died on exactly midnight of their eighteenth birthday. They had practically dropped dead.

Except their hearts had continued to beat an agonizing and slow death that lasted for hours.

He still remembered holding Emily as she sobbed. He still remembered her last words.

"I don't want to die father. I am too young. I have no desire for my life to end at its peak."

Anthony hadn't said anything like that but it was clear that he had been thinking that as well.

He had held both of their hands as they let out their last breaths. He had seen their eyes close for the last time.

They didn't want to die.

The realization hit him once more. They hadn't wanted to die. They were his loyal children.

A smirk appeared on his face.

They were perfect.

* * *

><p>Nations can have children with humans. The nations were built as humans after all. A man could impregnate a female personification and a female can get impregnated by a male personification.<p>

The one time that America had ever slept with another woman was in February of 1884. He had stupidly gotten drunk at a bar and the next thing he had known was waking up in his bed with a woman he had never met.

And he knew that she was pregnant right away.

So he did the right thing. He proposed and married the woman. They had a short and hurried wedding in order to hide the fact that she was pregnant. Her family had been disapproving at first before learning of his high up job in the government.

Her name had been Abigail.

They never did fall in love with one another. There was the mutual respect that a husband and wife had for one another however they never had sex again.

And then the children had been born.

It was a moment that he had remembered until his death. Those wonderful moments when his children had been born.

It had a relatively simple birth. A couple of pushes and grunts before first came his son and then his daughter.

He might not have loved his wife the way he should have but he most definitely loved their children.

The both of them were the biggest joys in his life. Their smiles made his day while their tears destroyed it.

The years passed. They were unfortunately human and so they grew quickly. He hated it that they were humans and he resigned himself to watching his children get old, marry, have children of their own, and then die. He hated it and unfortunately there had been nothing that he was able to do.

And then they fell sick.

Deep in his heart he knew why they had become sick suddenly like that. He had just deluded himself into believing that it wouldn't happen to them. He hoped and he had prayed that it wouldn't.

However personifications are never meant to give nor have children. Because of the genes given to them by their personification parent their hearts and souls were connected to the land however their bodies were never able to deal with the stress that was brought on with being connected to the land.

And slowly their bodies failed and slowly died. The complete death on the day of their eighteenth birthday.

And all he was able to do was watch as they took their last breathes and the life left their eyes.

But there was something that he was now able to do. Now he can bring them to life and ensure that they had the lives that they were supposed to have.

It was two birds with one stone really. He would have the allies that he needed to ensure his revenge and once he was done they would take his place.

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**Nothing much to say here.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

America gripped the knife in his hand tightly. Its handle was a rough in his hands and the sharp metal was a good foot long.

Perfect for what he needed to do.

He brought the knife to his back and pressed down carefully. He pressed as hard as he was able to until he broke through the skin and his blood flew in rivers down his back. He continued to press until he felt the bone, only then did he withdraw the knife and do the same to the other side of his back.

Once he was done he laid the knife to the side and closed his eyes. Almost immediately the shadows answered him and curled around his legs before entwining themselves to his body and using his legs, waist, chest, arms as a guide upwards and to the wounds on his back.

He felt the shadows enter the bleeding cuts. He felt them spread on the inside of his body. One tendril brushed against his unfortunately beating heart lovingly.

The shadows pushed at the remaining skin both inside and outside that surrounded the wound. Then they started to take form.

They attached themselves to his body before extending and bringing a part of them downwards and in a curve. The same upwards, they rose and curved until the top was a sharp tip. Accented by a fang both on the top and the bottom.

America sighed in happiness as he felt the shadows extend themselves along his body. They curved around his naked body. They started to form clothes that suited him.

He had thought perhaps it would have been a toga like England wore or perhaps a suit. No. The shadows seemed to laugh at his assumptions as they continued along his body, changing and forming to their will.

Once it was all done America stood from his place on the floor and walked to the hallway mirror. As he passed a room he glanced at the door and smiled at it before he continued onward.

He watched himself in the mirror. Practically everything about him had changed in this form. His blonde hair had streaks of black in them. His blue eyes had a hint of red. His skin had turned slightly pale. His clothes were all leather. From the pants to the jacket to the boots. Only the shirt underneath the jacket was fabric, runes shined in the light from it.

Even Texas was different. The glasses that had seemed like ordinary glasses were encrusted in red jewels around the black lenses. The tips of them ended in points as well with a fang.

But what he loved the most however was behind him. The one on his back.

Two gorgeous black wings sprouting from his body. Curving from his back both up and down ending with a fang before they curved again to meet their sides.

America sighed; his breath momentarily clouded the mirror.

It was time for the ritual to bring his children back to life. And first of all if he wanted to ensure that they wouldn't be human and would be like him he would need a special sacrifice.

Humans wouldn't do. Their organs, blood, and skin were all human. Soft and weak. Not good for what he needed to do.

No, he needed the blood, the organs, the skin of personifications if he intended for his children to be like him. If they were to take over once he was done and ready to go back. America needed a personification after all, even if it took two. One would be the south and the other the north.

However back on the topic at hand. He needed two sacrifices for his two children. And he knew exactly who to use.

Looks like the useless Italians would be of some use after all.

**Sorry for such a short update.**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

"I'm telling you!" England yelled. "I brought America back and now I am sure that he has done something it the Italians!"

Spain rolled his eyes. "England we buried America. Everyone saw it."

"Once again. I dug up his coffin and brought him back to life."

"You dug up my brother's grave!" Canada exclaimed. "Do you have any respect what so ever?"

"That is not the point." Germany said. "The point is where is Veneziano and Romano?"

"I am one hundred percent sure that they are at America's house." England said breaking into a run.

The others followed him as he ran onto America's porch and grabbed the doorknob. It turned easily in his grasp and he entered.

"America! America!" England yelled. "America!"

"This joke of yours has gone for enough England." Canada said. "You just don't know when to stop, do you?"

"You don't understand!" England screamed. "America come down here now!"

"England stop!" Canada screamed.

"There is no need to yell Iggy I can hear you just fine."

Everyone's head turned to the staircase where Alfred F. Jones was walking down in a pair of sweats and t-shirt evidently just getting out of bed.

Silence fell.

America raised an eyebrow. "All that yelling to get my attention and when I'm here you don't say anything."

"Al?" Canada asked his voice quivering. It sounded like he was almost in tears.

"Canada." America said.

Suddenly Canada ran t where America stood and threw his arms around him. America's arms slowly came up to embrace his brother.

"Al." Canada sobbed into his shirt. "Oh god Al, oh god."

"No." America said softly. "God has nothing to do with it."

Germany and Spain stepped forward.

"While we are all amazed and relieved at your return." Germany said. "There is something we need to know."

"Do you know where Romano and Veneziano are?" Spain asked.

America didn't say anything but nuzzled closer to Canada crooning slightly.

"America!" Germany cried. "Do you know where-"

"The Italians are?" America finished. "Yes I do."

Before anyone could say anything else movement from the top of the stairs. Someone was looking down at them from around the corner. The arm of the fabric was clear however. It was Veneziano's uniform.

"Veneziano." Germany said in relief. "There you are, I was…" he trailed off.

A girl stepped out of the shadows watching them, visibly confused, wearing Veneziano's uniform.

She was lightly gripping the wall beside her as she watched them.

"Who is this girl?" Germany asked turning to America. "Why is she wearing Veneziano's uniform?"

America looked up at the girl and frowned slightly.

"Emily what did I tell you about getting up?" he called to her. "You need to be resting."

"I heard shouting." she said softly. "I became worried."

Canada looked at the girl carefully. "Al?" he asked. "Who is she?"

Emily turned her head to the side. "Anthony."

A boy came out of the shadows now. What Spain saw immediately was that he was wearing Romano's uniform. He twirled towards America.

"Where. Is. Romano." he said slowly his hands shaking.

America walked to the desk standing a few feet away and picked up a tape which he handed to Germany.

"While ya'll watch that I'm going to go make some coffee." America said going to the kitchen. Emily and Anthony came down and sat at the last step of the stairs.

Germany sighed as he crossed the room and inserted the video into the VCR. There was a lot of static in the beginning of the video until it cleared up and showed America sitting somewhere. His legs were crossed and he was humming slightly.

"If you guys are watching this." America on the screen said softly. "Then you are probably at my house right now and asking me one of two things or maybe even both. One would be how I returned to life; you can ask England that by the way. Or two. Where are the Italian brothers?"

America on screen stretched and smacked his lips slightly before walking to the camera and fixing it.

"The worst part about working alone." they heard him say. "You have to do all of the work."

The camera zoomed out. Germany and Spain felt their breaths get caught in their throats.

Veneziano and Romano were tied to huge metal crosses extended in the air with their mouths gaged. They were each hanging over a coffin.

America came back into the cameras view. "I really did have to gag them. I just couldn't take the constant pleading and yelling."

America smirked then. "And besides you, no one, listened to me when I pleaded or you guys to stop so why should I listen?"

America walked to the coffins with a crowbar in hand. He slid it in between the top and the coffin and easily ripped it off. He quickly did the same to the other one.

Germany saw Veneziano's eyes start to fill with tears. He clutched his hands together to keep them from shaking.

"Now I'm not entire sure if England is there or not." America said looking into the camera. "But if he is then I'm sure he can recognize what this is."

The three of them turned towards England who was looking at the children.

"No." England whispered. They heard America place the kettle on the oven in the kitchen.

"Now then." America on screen said. He turned to the Italians. "I think I'll start with you."

He walked to the coffin under Veneziano. He kneeled and softly touched the array.

Light surrounded Veneziano and the coffin. Blood started to drip from Veneziano and into the coffin. The light turned red and they were able to hear his muffled screams.

America raised his arm. The shadows seemed to crawl up towards Veneziano before they sharply pierced him.

Veneziano's eyes were shut tightly although the tears running down his face was clear.

His entire body shuddered violently before he became still.

Germany felt the blood drain from his body.

Romano's muffled yells filled the air. He jerked his body in an attempt to get to his brother.

Veneziano's body started to disappear. First the skin which showed the muscles. Then the muscles followed by the organs then the blood that had been dripping steadily into the coffin and finally the bones leaving the clothes, boots, and necklace to fall to the floor.

There was movement in the coffin. It rattled and shook. Slowly a hand raised into the air.

It was completely bones.

The thing in the coffin lifted itself slowly until it fell out of the coffin and onto the floor. Pearl white bones dripped with blood.

It almost looked like it was clawing at the ground. Bones were breaking and snapping into the place as the body reformed itself.

The thing seemed to flex its new body as the black holes that past as its eyes looked around the room.

A sudden spasm hit it as it fell to the floor and shook violently. Organs started to slowly appear. The heart came first and once all of the organs were in place it visibly started to beat. They were able to see blood beginning to flow.

Nerve endings came next and if it had vocal chords it would be certain that it would be screaming in pain.

Skin finally started to appear. From the feet upwards slowly making its way. The skin was pale incredulously from not having blood pumped through the veins and not seeing the sun for so long. When the skin formed around the lower waist the gender was clear. It was a girl.

The skin helped form the stomach and the breasts. Soon the arms and the neck.

The skin formed slowly going to the back of the head and the lower face slowly.

Once the skin reached the beginning of the forehead hair began to grow on the top. Blonde hair just a shade lighter than Americas reached the middle of the girls back.

The girl hadn't moved since the skin had appeared, almost seemingly frozen.

Small parted red lips. Wide blue eyes. A small nose. The face, the body, was complete.

Then almost like a puppet whose strings had been cut she fell to the floor gasping for air.

Everyone turned to the girl sitting on the stairs that merely looked up at them innocently.

"Now your turn." America said turning to Romano who had become pale white. Before the video could continue Spain jumped forward and quickly turned the TV off.

"Hey guys." America said coming out of the kitchen and smiling. "Anyone want some coffee?"

**Two down, seven to go.**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**Um…there is a character death in this chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

Spain was breathing heavily and his hands were shaking.

"You…you…Romano…you…ki…ki…killed." Spain choked out. He turned towards America who was innocently swirling the cups contents. He took a sip before saying "I think it needs more sugar."

Germany swallowed the lump in his throat. "America…why?" he asked hoarsely.

America shrugged. "I needed two nations to be sacrificed to bring back my children so they wouldn't be humans. The Italians were as close to twins as possible so I thought they would be a good match. Emily and Anthony are twins you know."

Spain bit his lip hard enough to pierce the skin. Blood started to flow down his lip slowly. "But why sacrifice anyone?"

America sighed. "I needed to bring my children back to life." he said slowly as if he was speaking to a child. "And the Italians were the perfect choice."

Spain was flexing his hands, his fingers curling slightly. "You killed…Romano."

America nodded. "I believe you already said that."

Spain whirled towards America and flew at him, his hands aiming for his throat.

America threw up the cup of coffee into the air.

In a whir of motion and speed the fight ended with Spain on the floor with America on top of him with one of his hands around sprains neck. The other hand came up and caught the coffee.

"You didn't do anything." America said softly. "So I will give you this suggestion. Don't do anything to get on my bad side."

"Why are you doing this?" England whispered.

"Why did you bring me back?" America shot back.

"I brought you back because I love you and I didn't want you to be dead simply because of a single silly mistake." England said.

Americas smile faded. "A silly mistake." he repeated. He looked to where Emily and Anthony were sitting.

The next thing England knew was a hand that grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him against the wall.

The girl, Emily, was holding him in place tightly.

America placed the cup on the table and walked towards England. "I assure you England; the only silly mistake I ever made believed that you ever even liked me."

America looked back at everyone who was standing there. "I want everyone here to spread the word. I'm back and this time I'm not leaving without taking a few of you bastards with me."

He nodded at Emily who let go of England's arms.

England was breathing heavily. "America. Sacrificing people to bring back others…that is black magic."

America smirked. "What is your point?"

"After everything I tried to teach you." England whispered. "You resort to black magic."

Americas smirk widened. "Again. What is your point?"

Before England could say anything else movements caught his eyes. The shadows were crawling around the room and seemingly going towards America.

"I'll ask once more England." America said. "What is your point?"

The shadows curled around America and curled around him. They formed around him and once they melted away it was clear that he was different.

"You might have an angel form." America said spreading the shadows on his back until they formed dark leather wings. "I have my own form."

England allowed himself a moments fear to pass through his body before he stood tall and called upon his own form.

The toga-clad white winged halo Britannia angel stood there looking determined to his old charge.

America brushed some imaginary lint off of his shirt. He looked up at England.

"You honestly think you scare me?" he asked.

In an answer England lifted his wand towards America and shouted a word. Light sprung from the wand towards America.

America's wings came forward and covered him to block the light.

When the wings parted he was grinned. "Oh come on England. Give me some credit."

Emily was holding onto England's arm once more while Anthony grabbed the other.

America grabbed England by the throat and lifted him off the ground.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you." America said. "Yet. For bringing me back to life I'm saving you for last."

"America this is insanity." Germany said. "Come to your senses."

America glanced at him. "I am completely with my senses. For what you guys have done to me this is the least that you deserve. Including the Italians."

"Bring them back." Spain snarled. "Bring them back!"

America shook his head. "To bring them back would mean that I would have to kill my children, there is no way that I would do that."

They weren't sure from where but suddenly in true Hungary-welding-the-frying-pan movement Spain was holding his axe threateningly. "Bring. Them. Back."

America tilted his head slightly his eyes darkening. "Spain I swear this to you. You dare try to attack either me or my children I will use your own axe to kill you."

Spain snarled slightly as his eyes locked on Anthony. Anthony took a step back in slight fear.

When Spain took a single step towards Anthony America was suddenly in front of him. When he grabbed Spain's axe Canada closed his eyes and turned away.

There was a sickening sound of metal slicing through skin and when Canada felt brave enough to open his eyes he gagged.

Blood covered the room and the front of America's body. Spain's body lay in front twitched slightly with his own axe sticking out of his chest.

Canada felt his breakfast start to rise in his throat.

America turned to the others. Canada felt his heart drop at the look in his eyes. No remorse, no guilt, no shame, not even insanity. He was purely sane and he knew what he was doing.

"I will give you guys five minutes to get out." America said. "Get out. And if by then you don't get out then I will kill you."

He held up his hands and an hourglass appeared in his hands. "For some of you your sands of time have already began to run against you."

America grinned. "But who will be first?"

**I know who is first.**

**Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

It was midnight in Moscow in the middle of winter. No one would be out at this time.

Even if someone was there they wouldn't see him or his children.

The shadows rippled slightly and out stepped America. He had chosen to stay in his demon form for this one. Although the winter winds were in full force he paid no attention to it.

The snow crunched under his boots as he crossed through the town. Once he got to the house in the middle he simply glanced up at it for a moment before opening the door. He smiled slightly when the doorknob easily turned in his hand.

He walked through the hallway passing portraits and vases filled with sunflowers until he reached the living room.

Russia sat at a table with a glass and a bottle of vodka in front of him. When he glanced over his shoulder his eyes held no surprise.

"The others told me about your return. Congratulations." Russia said sneering.

America smirked as he entered the room, walking slowly and crossing each leg over the other.

Russia's eyes followed him as he picked up his glass and sipped from it.

He stood suddenly and sneered. "If you think this will be as easy as the Italians you are mistaken."

America smirked as his wings shifted slightly. "Easy or not. One way or the other. You will die."

"General Zima." Russia said softly.

Obedient as ever the personification of winter appeared as his call. "Kill him."

America didn't move as the old man flew to him. Two blurs ran past him. One grabbed Winter by the throat while the other delivered the magic attack.

"You do know what happens when you heat up snow?" America asked. "it melts."

Moving quickly he grabbed Russia by the throat and slammed him to the ground. The fangs at the end of his wings quickly pierced Russia's hands and pinned him to the ground. He straddled him to ensure Russia wouldn't be moving.

Throwing an almost lazy gaze he looked to where Anthony and Emily were easily subduing General Winter. The two of them had resorted to making a shield to contain him and were creating fire around the man. He tried to fight back however with each attempt came a bigger blast of fire. Combining the blood of the Roman Empire and his own created a very powerful mix.

He turned back to Russia who was staring at him hatefully.

"Don't look at me like that." America said. He slowly unbuttoned Russia's shirt and slid his hands along the chest.

Russia sneered again. "If you plan on doing to me what we did to you it won't work. It never had."

America smiled. "I'm not going to do that. I'm not like the sick bastards you are."

"You have no right to do this." Russia said.

America threw his head back and laughed. "I have no right to do this? Then tell me, what right did you have for all of you to rape me?"

Russia's sneer deepened. "For an irresponsible brat like you that needs to be taught a lesson we don't need to have a right. It is given to us."

He dug his nails of his right hand over Russia's heart while his left started to squeeze his throat.

"You just said that what you guys did to me wouldn't work on you so that must mean that it has happened to you before." America asked.

Russia nodded. "Many times. Sometimes by a nation and sometimes by my boss."

"So you of all people should understand how it felt." America asked running his one free hand over Russia's face. "How it is to be betrayed by the people you have trusted. You of all people should understand how it feels to be taken like that and forced into something."

"You want to know something Russia?" America asked digging his nails deeper until he penetrated the skin. "I love you."

Russia eyes widened.

"I love you." America continued. "I love you so much." His hand started to enter Russia's chest. "So much that it hurts." He curled his hand around Russia's heart. "I have for so long. For years." Russia choked out a breath of pain. "When you did that to me it hurt so much." He dug his nails into the heart slightly. "I had always deluded myself into thinking that if I told you, you would say the same."

He slowly brought his hand out of Russia's body, hand still clutching the heart tightly.

Tears started to fall onto Russia's face. When he locked eyes with America he was taken aback at the tears that had gathered there.

"This is all your fault." he said. "Yours and the others. All your fault for making me like this."

He slid his hand out of Russia's body completely. Their eyes locked on the still beating heart.

"There are very few ways to kill a nation." America said. "However one of the ways is to rip out the nations beating heart and destroy it."

Their eyes locked for a moment before America smashed their lips together.

With the hand still holding the heart he squeezed tightly until he tore into it and tore it in half.

When America opened his eyes Emily and Anthony were by his side and there was no one else.

He lifted his blood soaked hand once more to his face before his eyes went to the white wall.

He stood and walked to the wall. Taking the hand that was covered in blood he rubbed it into the white wall to perform a perfect red circle.

He stepped back and turned to Anthony. "You know something? They say that only the insane can draw perfect circles."

He turned away and the children followed him dutifully. He glanced once more at the wall with the circular red stain.

"Let them figure out who is the next one."

* * *

><p>Japan was surprised that his hands weren't shaking as he poured the tea. He set the pot down and sat on his knees in front of his own cup.<p>

He momentarily had the craving for some salted salmon or perhaps that cherry ice cream he had bought the week before. Perhaps he still had time for-

No he didn't. He heard his front door opened and sighed as he reached for his tea.

He could hear America's footsteps clearly before he appeared in the doorway.

"You were expecting me." America said.

Japan nodded. "You left a very clear sign. A circular red blood stain in directly in the middle of a white wall. It was easy to guess."

America nodded his eyes lingered on the tea. Expecting someone beside me?"

Japan shook his head. "They are for you and your children. And they aren't poisoned."

"Even if they were they would work." America said sitting down at the table. He sipped from one tea and nodded. Emily and Anthony appeared by their father's side and took their own tea.

"You do realize why I'm here right?" America asked.

Japan nodded. "I do however that is no excuse for being a poor host."

America shrugged as he drank from his tea. He laid the empty cup on the table. "Good tea."

"Thank you."

America stood and walked behind Japan and kneeled. Japan paid no mind to him as he continued to drink.

"Will you do me a favor?" Japan suddenly asked.

"What?"

Japan nodded to the cat bed in the corner of the room where a kitten slept.

"Greece had given that kitten to me to take care of. Please return her to Greece."

America nodded. "Sure."

He placed his hand on Japans back directly over his heart and pressed lightly.

"You know I always admired you." America murmured into Japans ear. "You were always so refined. So full of honor and dignity. Such a royal look." He started to press harder on Japans back. His gaze went to the still hands holding the tea. "Nothing ever shook you." Violently and suddenly he pushed forward bursting his hand through Japans chest heart in hand. Japan dropped the tea. "Even the same in death."

It was over in a moment. Japans body was gone, the children were quietly sipping their tea, and Americas hand was covered in blood.

* * *

><p>Greece was asleep, resting peacefully against a white column. Surrounded by dozens of cats.<p>

America gently laid the blood covered kitten next to the other man. It snuggled close to Greece, staining his pants with blood. America adjusted the tag so it was more visible.

'_From America.'_

**Three down.**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**This chapter is a small one based on Emily and Anthony. To get into their minds a little bit.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

Emily walked slowly. She had chosen to go barefoot as she walked through the field. The wind was strong yet at the same time pleasant.

She stopped on a hill that overlooked a city. She stood there, with her skirts blowing around her legs, just staring at the city.

Everything was so…different. Completely and utterly different.

The buildings were higher. The technology was different. People were more tolerant of others.

And women! When she had been eighteen years old a woman having the right to vote were something that was whispered and hoped for. Now they had gone even farther than that.

Emily sighed as she finally sat down. The grass was slightly wet however she paid no mind to it.

She glanced down at the necklaces she wore. Two of them actually.

One was a simple cross that hanged on her neck and the other was a different sort of cross and not one that she had easily recognized. So she had asked her father. He had told her that it was an iron cross, mostly for German military.

Both had belonged to Northern Italy who had been sacrificed for her.

Sacrificed for her.

To be brought back to life.

Hadn't it been a sin to trend in this forbidden ground? To perform acts of magic to bring back the dead? Her father had done so anyway.

And if was being honest with herself she was of mixed feelings at being here where she was at this moment.

The day that she had turned eighteen years old alongside Anthony was one that she doubted that she would ever forget. The pain her heart had gone through as her bones twisted and turned. Her last breath and closing her eyes for the final time.

She had no memories of her time when she had been dead. Those were not conscious memories. Had her father pulled her and her brother out of heaven or hell?

Although she was now sure which doors were closed for her immortal soul and which were open arms wide.

To be brought back to this time when all she has ever known was gone. To be brought back to this time only to serve her father. To be brought back to this time to kill.

It was painful.

Good children listened to their fathers. Good children did as they were told.

Emily was a good child.

She did as she was told.

Emily sighed as she lay on the grass. She looked to the moon and stars for comfort. Those at least hadn't changed on her. They were still the same.

She didn't know what to feel anymore.

Ever since their return father had been nothing more than ecstatic. He had showered them with gifts and introduced them to their new lives in this new time.

All they had to do was help him gain the revenge to those who had wronged him.

Obedience, obedience.

The night of their return. After they had rested properly father had done something. They now felt the same power he did. The shadows answered their callings and bowed to their whim.

Emily shivered although it had nothing to do with the wind blowing.

Her father was starting to scare her deeply. From the way he had drank the blood of his enemies' later back home. From the cold hearted way he simply killed.

Spain she could understand, he had desired to hurt Anthony. Russia, hadn't father loved him? How can you bring hurt to someone you love? Japan who had served them tea before he killed them. Those German brothers. The blonde one hadn't even fought back while the red eyed one had.

Although he had stopped fighting once he saw his brother's dead body.

Emily sighed as she curled into a ball on her side.

And once all had been done? Once all the nations that father had hated died?

What would become of them? Once the enemies were gone why would father had need for them anymore?

And what was stopping him from simply killing them once everything was done.

She simply wanted her life back. Or rather her death. Being alive once more in this strange and horrible land was nothing more than pain and more pain.

Perhaps if she started to go to church regularly once again and begged for forgiveness she would one day be forgiven for the sins she has done and was brought upon her.

Sins of the father suffer the child after all.

If not forgiveness then perhaps there was hope in rebirth. To be reborn anew in a different body with no previous memories.

Emily curled together tighter. She was scared. Scared of her father.

Maybe that was why she followed him. Because she feared what he would do to her if she disobeyed.

She pressed her mouth into the sleeve of her shirt to muffle her cries.

* * *

><p>Anthony sighed as he brought the bottle to his lips and drank deeply from it.<p>

He had broken into his father's liquor cabinet and stole the first bottle he saw. When he went to Emily's room to share it he discovered it was empty.

If anything he could simply break into the cabinet once more to get something for her.

And truth be told he was enjoying being alone for what seemed to be the first time since he had been brought back to life.

He squinted at the label of the bottle trying to make out whatever it was that he was drinking. He gave up soon and instead decided to take another swing from it.

He wiped his mouth on his arm as he brought the bottle to his forehead. The still cool bottle was slight heaven on his burning head.

He had never drank anything before and wasn't entirely sure why he had suddenly had the desire to start. All he knew was that he was going to be drunk soon.

That was something that he was actually looking forward to.

This disgusting and sinful world that they lived in now. He longed for the days of his youth quite often. Filled with running through the fields with his sister and parents, sneaking sweets from the jars and sharing their prizes with one another.

Innocence was a fleeting thing after all.

The cross hanging from his neck, it used to belong to South Italy that man who had been sacrificed for him, was heavy and if it wasn't his imagination getting heavier.

He was too sinful to wear a cross.

His rebirth was one of sin and horror. Of sacrifice and blood.

He buried his face in his hands and brought his knees to his chest.

He wished for this nightmare filled night to end and finally bring the day.

**The children are innocent. They were dragged into this by America and only America is the one to blame.**

**At least I hope that's what you guys got.**

**Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**We are starting to reach the end with this one.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

Emily glanced at Anthony who sat across of her at the table of the café.

They had told their father that they wished to go out and simply be outside somewhere. He had encouraged it and gave them more money than they even knew that they could spend in a single day.

Anthony tried to avert his eyes when girls that were clad in only bikinis that barely covered what needed to be covered by staring at the menu in his hands.

Emily on the other hand followed them until they went out of sight. When she turned back she shook her head.

"That was ridiculous." she said.

Anthony nodded. "Do girls of this day have no respect for themselves?"

"Seems so brother." Emily sighed. "And the boys! Why on earth do they wish to show off their underwear's to the world?"

Anthony shrugged. "I am still trying to wrap my mind over the way that they talk."

Brother and sister sighed in unison.

"I cannot understand anything of this time." Emily said. She placed her elbow on the table and balanced her head in her hands. "It just seems so…disrespectful and horrid."

Anthony nodded. "They seem to have no respect for others or themselves."

The waitress came at that moment; she was chewing gum and seemed disinterested in her two customers as she asked "Are you ready to order?"

"May I have an ice tea and a slice of this chocolate pie?" Emily asked her voice raising a few octaves. The waitress gave her a weird look before writing it down. She turned to Anthony and asked "And you?"

"A coffee and this strudel please." Anthony said.

The waitress nodded, wrote it down, and left. Anthony glanced at his sister.

"You need to stop doing that." Anthony said.

Emily smiled slightly. "I know, I'm still getting used to talking to everyone myself."

Anthony patted her hand. "You'll get used to it."

Emily stared at their hands quietly. "Will I?"

"What do you mean?"

Emily glanced at her brother. "What will happen to us when our father is done?"

Anthony didn't say anything as the waitress came back with their drinks and snacks. The both of them busied themselves with preparing their drinks. Emily added three sugars into her tea and Anthony added four into his coffee. They stirred their drinks in silence.

"I mean." Emily continued. "We were brought back here for one reason and one reason only. To assist our father with his desire to avenge his death and those who wronged him. You and I know that. We also know that once he is done he wants to die once more. He wants to go back." She looked up at her brother. "And when that time comes what will happen to us? Do you wish to die once more?"

Anthony was silent for a few moments as he thought.

"I don't honestly know." he finally said. "I know that in these bodies we are like our father. We are immortal and we won't die. And to tell you the truth I am afraid of death."

"We died before. There is nothing to fear." Emily said. "It is somewhat easier and faster than falling asleep."

Anthony nodded. "I know. It's not the death I fear it is afterwards."

Emily was silent as she watched her brother.

"I mean." he continued. "We have committed sins. We have killed and we have dabbled in magic. Magic to create and destroy. Magic was to create these bodies of ours."

"Which were taken from those Italian brothers." Emily said.

"Stolen. Another sin aside murder." Anthony said. He sighed heavily.

Emily picked up her fork and sliced a small piece of the pie. As she chewed it she glanced around the people once more.

"I actually talked to father about what happens after everything is done." Anthony said suddenly.

Emily looked up at him sharply. "And what did he say?"

Anthony was shredding his napkin slightly. "He said that he didn't bring us back only for us to help him but to replace him."

Emily placed her fork down, confusion clear on her face. "What?"

Anthony now was placing the pieces of the napkin into a single pile. "He said that when he killed himself the first time he didn't think things through. He said that he had left the world with no America left in his place. The world needs a personification of America. That is to be us. We are to be the new personifications of America."

"Why on earth would we want that?" Emily asked.

Anthony shrugged. "I am merely repeated what he told me."

Emily bit her lip as she looked down at her plate. "Brother he is starting to scare me."

"He was starting to scare me the moment I opened my eyes for the first time in this new world." Anthony said. "If you went to those degrees then I do not believe you are alright in your mind."

"Personifications aren't supposed to die no matter what unless it is dissolution of the land." Emily said suddenly.

"What are you talking about?" Anthony asked.

"I have been reading a lot lately." she said. "And I read up on personifications. They are not supposed to die as long as the land is in their name. If it is they can never die no matter what."

"What are you trying to say?" Anthony asked once more.

Emily stared at her brother. "I mean that father is stopping the healing of the nation's we have killed. I mean that he is doing something to keep them from being born again. Everyone should have, from the Italians to the Germany should have come back to life by now."

Anthony shook his head. "I honestly think father is insane."

Emily shook her head. "Stop calling him father. He stopped being our father the moment he brought us back. Call him either Alfred or America."

"He won't like it."

"Be damned what he likes or not." Emily snapped. She stood up and placed the money on the table to pay for their food. "I am past caring what he wants or not."

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**Just so you guys know. Someone dies in this chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

"The next person we attack is France." America announced over breakfast the next day.

Anthony and Emily looked up from their plates. "France?"

America nodded as he sipped from his cup of coffee. "Is there a problem?"

Anthony frowned slightly. "Didn't you say that Canada and France are close? Wouldn't he try to help France?"

America shrugged. "If he knew what was good for him he won't."

"And if he does?" Emily asked.

America grinned. "Then we make sure that he knows not to interfere. Get dressed both of you." he ordered.

Anthony and Emily obediently got up and went to their rooms to change.

"Isn't Canada his own brother?" Emily asked as they walked up the stairs.

"He is willing to attack his brother who had nothing to do with it." Anthony murmured.

Siblings looked at one another in silence for a moment.

"I love you brother." Emily said suddenly.

"And I love you sister." Anthony said.

Biting her lip Emily stepped forward and embraced her brother.

"What's wrong?" Anthony murmured into her hair.

Emily pressed her cheek against his chest. "I just…I just feel that something is going to go wrong today." she said.

Anthony took her face in his hands. "I swear, nothing is going to happen to you."

"And what about you?" she asked.

Anthony hesitated before he shook his head.

"I'm your older brother." he said. "It's my job to take care of and look after you, not the other way around."

"It's part of being a younger sister." Emily said. "It's my job to worry about my older brother."

* * *

><p>France was pacing up and down his living room with his hands behind his back. He was mumbling under his breathe and looked close to pulling out his own hair.<p>

"For the love of everything good frog." England finally snapped. "Sit. The fuck. Down."

"You try to sit down when you know that death is approaching you." France exclaimed.

Canada stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. "England is right France. You need to relax."

"I told him to sit down." England said. "I said nothing about relaxing."

Canada shot him a look and pushed France into a chair. "Sit." he ordered. He pushed a cup of coffee into Frances hand. "Drink."

France glanced at the cup. "I wouldn't mind something a little stronger than coffee my dear Canada." he said as he sipped.

"I don't think that will be a good idea." Canada said.

England looked up suddenly and stood. "They are here."

Canada glanced around the room. "Are you sure?"

The front door was suddenly blasted off its hinges making them duck to avoid the flying pieces of wood.

"Pretty sure." England said.

Canada bit back his retort when he saw his brother and his children walk in. He straightened up and said "Hello there America, nice to see you."

France glanced at him in shock. "He is here to kill me and you are being polite to him?"

America smiled and tilted his head. "Hello there Canada, nice to see you as well. How have you been?"

Canada shrugged. "I've been alright, can't really complain. You?"

America grinned. "Never better."

Canada nodded. "Good to know. Now why are you here?"

"Oh I thought that I would walk around the country, see the sights." America said. "What on earth do you think I am here for?"

"America." Canada sighed. "You need to stop."

America shook his head. "No can do Canada. Now please step to the side and let me finish. And since England is here I can do two in one day."

Canada shook his head. "America. Brother. I am sorry but I can't let you do this. France and England. They were our fathers. And I know what they did to you was bad but that doesn't excuse what you are doing is worse."

"So you're saying that they were in the right and I am in the wrong?" America asked.

Canada shook his head. "I'm saying that two wrongs don't make a right."

America shrugged. "I don't really care. I just want them out of this world."

Canada stepped in front of them. "And I'm sorry but I can't allow that."

America sighed. "Canada. You are my brother and my twin. I don't want to hurt you, however I will if you continue to do this."

Canada spread his arms. "Do your worst America."

Before he could blink America was in front of him and grabbed him by his throat, lifting him inches off the ground.

"I didn't want to hurt you brother." America breathed. "However you brought me no choice."

He threw Canada at the wall causing him to go through it slightly. He turned to where England France had stood to find the room empty except his children. Apparently Canada was to distract him while the other two made their escape.

America shrugged. He will find them later. He walked to where Canada was struggling to get up and placed his foot directly over Canada's ribs. When he pressed down hard enough he felt the satisfying crack of broken ribs accompanied by Canada's scream of pain.

"Tell me brother." America said pressing down harder. "How is the taste of betrayal?"

"Stop."

Everyone in the room paused before looking at the source of the voice.

Anthony looked scared however he stood straight and repeated "Stop."

"Stop what son?" America asked.

"Everything." Anthony said. "I am sick and tired of you killing everyone. Now you are killing your brother!" his voice was getting louder with each word. "That is not what brothers do! They protect their siblings! They don't hurt them!"

America stared at his son quietly.

"I am tired of all of this father." Anthony said. "I no longer wish to be a part of it."

"So you are betraying me as well." America said slowly.

Anthony shook his head. "I am not betraying you. Just leaving. I had enough."

"Betrayal." America said. "Through and through. Well there is really one way to fix this."

Before anyone in the room could move America was in front of Anthony and without hesitating thrusted his arm forward through Anthony's stomach.

"I will not have disobedient children." America hissed.

Emily watched in horror as her brother paled immediately and looked down slowly at America's arm that had gone through his stomach. When America retracted his arm Anthony fell to the ground.

"Anthony!" Emily screamed. She ran to his side and held him in her arms. "Brother!"

She lifted him so that she supported her his body and held him close to her. Blood started to come through his mouth.

"Brother no." Emily sobbed. "Please. Please don't leave me."

Anthony's eyes were staring straight at the ceiling as he mouthed words. Quietly Emily was able to make out some of the words.

"_The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want; He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters; He restores my soul."_ Anthony prayed. _"He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake."_

Emily joined in with him clutching his body to hers, one hand holding his hand and the other hand holding his face.

"_Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death," _they recited together. _"I fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me."_

Emily was holding back tears as sobs rang through her body.

"_Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever." _they came to a finish.

"Please lord our god." Anthony murmured. "Forgive us for our sins."

His and Emily's eyes connected for a moment. He smiled at her slightly before he closed his eyes and his hand dropped to the ground.

Emily's sobs ran through the house while Canada was leaning against the wall crying quietly and America looked on with a look of indifference on his face.

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing.**

Emily looked up at her father, tears still running down her face.

"How could you do that to him?" she whispered.

America shrugged. "He was a disobedient child. I have no need for those. Speaking of which." he said, his eyes narrowing. "Where do you stand?"

Emily didn't answer as her fingers trailed over Anthony's face lovingly.

America sighed. "My little girl. I asked you a question. Where do you-"

"Don't." Emily interrupted looked up at her father. As she stood the front of her clothes were covered in blood. "Call me. Your little girl. I am no longer your daughter."

America's eyes narrowed. "So you are betraying me as well. Your father."

"My father." Emily said. "Died to me the moment he brought me back to life."

"Traitor." America hissed. He crouched slightly preparing to leap at her.

However unlike Canada and Anthony Emily had been prepared and blocked his attempt to kill her the same way as he had with Anthony. She brought his arm down and using it as leverage lifted herself to kick in solidly in the stomach.

America grabbed her leg that she kicked him with and swung her through the wall and into the kitchen.

The counter stopped her as she banged against it. Not stopping for a moment to catch her breathe Emily jumped to the side to avoid her father's next attack.

America swore when he felt his hand go through the tiles of the counter. Glancing to where Emily was he quickly commanded his shadows to attack her.

Emily was quick to dodge the attempts the shadows made and glancing around quickly she grabbed a chair that had been toppled over and throwing it at her father.

America raised an arm to grab the chair and threw it back against his daughter. Unprepared for the attack Emily fell to the ground.

America quickly grabbed her neck and slammed her head into the ground. Emily felt the back of her head open slightly as blood started to pool underneath her. America squeezed her throat tighter.

"Since you decided to fight me like that." he hissed. "I will simply squeeze the life out of you."

Emily clawed for breathe. When she tried to raise her own shadows America used his free arm to punch her swiftly on the stomach. She felt a few ribs break from the punch.

"Don't even think about it." America snarled.

Shots rang out through the kitchen and through America's arms and legs. He looked up almost lazily to the doorway where Canada stood with a gun in hand shooting his brother.

America laughed as he tightened his grip around Emily's neck once more. "You think that will be enough to stop me Canada?"

Using this distraction Emily looked to the side where a knife lay having fallen from her banging against the counter.

Praying that America wouldn't notice she used her arm to reach for it. Her shaking hand slowly made its way towards the handle. Her vision was starting to swim and dim and she could feel her lungs start to stop.

Canada saw what she was doing and continued in his attempt to keep his brothers attention on him. When he shot America once more America gave out a grumble of annoyance and with a blast of magic blew his brother across the room.

Emily's hand curled around the handle of the knife.

Before America could turn back to her she brought the knife forward towards his back. She didn't know if it was fate or luck however when she brought the knife forward and through his back the point on the knife came out on the side of his body where his heart was.

America paused and looked at the knife that had gone through his body. His grip on her throat loosened slightly.

Using this moment Emily jerked the knife to the side so that it came out and using her body threw her father off of her. She gasped for breath while from the corner of her eye she saw Canada appear once more in the doorway.

America was looking at the wound she had created and then towards her. His eyes filled with hatred.

"You bitch!" he screamed. He started towards her.

Emily jumped towards her father, knife in hand. This time she knocked him to the ground and brought the knife once more through his heart.

America didn't move as she brought the knife through his chest a second time. A third time. A fourth time. A fifth.

The light started to fade from his eyes as he grinned up at her.

"That's my girl." he breathed. "That's my little girl."

He gave her one more grin before he opened his hand to reveal a lit lighter. Before she could move he threw it at the stove.

Where unknown to her one of the pipes that had brought gas into the house had cracked open and leaked from when she had been thrown against the counter.

Moving fast Canada grabbed Emily off of America who simply lay back on the broken tiled floor and closed his eyes in order to peacefully wait for death. Wrenching free of Canada's grasp Emily ran to where her brothers body lay and tried to drag him out of the house.

"We don't have time!" Canada yelled at her grabbing her arm once more and trying to pull her. "We need to get out!"

"No!" Emily screamed. "I'm not leaving without him!"

"You have to!" Canada yelled.

"No!" Emily screamed.

Cursing slightly Canada grabbed her around the waist and started to pull her towards the door. Emily tried to get out of his grasp as smoke started to fill the house, her arm extended towards her brother.

"No!" she screamed. "No! Let me take him! Or at least let me die beside him!" she pleaded.

Ignoring her pleas Canada continued to pull her out of the house. Just as they were able to get out an explosion rocked the house and throwing them a few feet away.

"No!" Emily screamed. "Anthony!"

Emily fell to her knees sobbing. "Anthony. Anthony." she sobbed.

Canada came up to her and somewhat awkwardly patted her on her back. "It's alright. Everything is going to be alright."

Deciding not to hesitate anymore, he had nothing to fear from this child anymore, he sat down beside her and pulled her onto his lap and rocked her slightly and allowing her to sob into his shirt while murmuring "It's alright. Everything is going to be alright." over and over again.

* * *

><p>"I still don't think that was a good idea." France said following England. "Leaving poor Canada alone against that beast."<p>

England rolled his eyes. "Canada is his brother. There is no way that he would attack his own brother. We just needed some time to get away."

"I somehow severely doubt that he would hesitate to hurt Canada." France said. He looked back towards his house and felt the blood drain from his body. "My house!"

England looked back and felt his jaw drop. A fiery inferno was now blazing where Frances house once stood. "What on earth is going on?"

France threw England a disgusted look. "America not hurting his brother." He immediately began to run towards his house once more. After some hesitation England followed him as well.

What stopped them into freezing was the sight of Canada holding Emily to him. Emily was sobbing and Canada it seemed was trying to soothe her.

"Canada!" France nearly screeched. "What are you doing? Get away from her before she kills you!"

Canada looked up at the both of them tiredly before glancing at the sobbing girl in his arms.

"She's not going to hurt anyone anymore." he said. "Besides I'm her uncle and really all she has now."

He glanced behind him to the house that was engulfed in flames. They could hear the sirens from the fire trucks approaching them.

"It's over." Canada said. "It's all over."

**This is NOT the last chapter. There is still some more to come.**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: ****hey people!**

**This is the last chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

France, England, and Canada were silent as they entered America's house. Canada was carrying a sleeping Emily in his arms, tear trails drying on her face.

He walked up the stairs and picked one of the rooms, none of them had anything to tell which belonged to whom, and gently laid her on the bed. He slid her boots and socks off before he covered her and closed the door behind him as he left.

When he came back downstairs England was simply staring into the fireplace and France was helping himself to some of America's liquor.

"If he didn't come back by now." England said. "Then he's not coming back at all. America is dead."

Canada sighed. "You shouldn't have brought him back in the first place England."

England nodded. "I know. That was my mistake and I take full blame for it."

France shook his head. "That's not the mistake."

The other two looked at him.

"What?"

France sighed. "That wasn't the mistake. The mistake is what we all did to America."

England dropped his gaze. "That is true. Had we never done that there would've been no suicide. No need to bring him back and therefore no need for revenge."

"What I want to know is why the others haven't come back." Canada said. "America might've killed them but they still were nations. Why didn't they come back when America killed them?"

"And for that matter why isn't America coming back himself?" France asked.

England was looking around the house. "Every person that uses magic." he said. "Needs to have a place where they store everything that they use. Books, arrays, everything. I want to see that room and see if America had something to do with it."

"He did." a quiet female voice said. The three of them turned to the stairs where Emily was making her way down towards them. "At least I am pretty sure that he did."

England was still looking at her with suspicion. "How do we know that we can trust you?"

Canada sighed heavily as he stood up and walked to her side. "She killed America." he told England and France. "Is that enough for you?"

Emily looked to the side and shook her head slightly before looking at the other two.

"He had a room that we weren't allowed in." she said. "It's the basement. Follow me."

The three of them followed Emily down the hallway and to a door that she opened. Pushing the light switch to the side she walked them down a wooden staircase to another door, this one made of metal. She opened it and held it for the other three to enter.

Books covered the tables and the floors along with documents that were written all over in America's handwriting. Arrays were drawn on the walls and in the middle of the ground. England was almost running around the room murmuring to himself as he examined every inch of the room.

Emily was watching the three of them silent with her hands grasping her arms in support. Canada placed his arm around her shoulders in comfort.

England stepped away from the arrays and nodded his head. "Thought so."

France glanced around the room. "That America was completely and incredibly insane?"

"No. well he was but not that." England said. He pointed to the arrays. "He used magic to keep the others from coming back to life. Son of a bitch."

Canada cleared his throat. "Don't talk about our mother like that." he warned.

"Apologizes." England said. "However after he killed a certain nation he came here and used these combined with his magic to ensure that they wouldn't be able to come back."

"So where does that leave us?" France asked.

"We need to get rid of these." England said. He glanced at the others. "Please leave the room. I will take of everything myself. Make sure to close the door behind you."

Emily, Canada, and France nodded as they left the room. France glanced back at England who was looking at the arrays with a look of determination on his face.

Over the course of the next few hours the three of them heard yells, screams, cursing, and explosions from the basement. They tried their best to ignore it as Canada tried to teach Emily more about the twenty-first century and France had gone out to buy her some proper clothes. She no longer wished to wear either the Italians uniforms or the clothes her father had bought her.

It was well into the next morning when the three of them were waking up in the living room, none of them wished to leave the others, before England fumbled up the stairs looking exhausted and accomplished.

"It's done." he said with a smile.

* * *

><p>Veneziano and Romano were jerked awake; their last memories still fresh in their minds. Romano immediately looked to where Veneziano was and jumped onto him, hugging him and trying to punch him at the same time.<p>

"You idiot!" Romano screeched. "You goddamned idiot! How can you scare me like that! How can you!"

Veneziano laughed as he pulled his arms around Romano and hugged him close. Both brothers had tears running down their faces.

"We're alive brother." Veneziano whispered. "We're alive."

* * *

><p>Spain moaned as he held his hand up to where his own axe had gone through his chest. Easily one of the worst deaths he had ever faced.<p>

He sighed and leaned against the wall as his hand automatically went to the cross on his neck.

"Roma." he whispered.

His phone started to ring however he ignored it concentrating on getting feeling back into his body.

His answering machine answered the phone call. He could dimly hear the recording he had left there.

Until the other persons voice came through the machine.

"Spain! Spain you bastard! I know your home! Answer your goddamned phone! Oy! Tomato bastard!"

Spain's eyes opened in shock.

It was Romano's voice.

Ignoring his protesting muscles he jumped towards the phone and brought it to his ear.

"Romano?" he yelled into the phone his heart pounding.

There was silence on the other end causing him to go numb for a moment before the voice finally said "About time! Why the hell weren't you picking up your phone?"

* * *

><p>Cold. It was so cold.<p>

Snow. Ice. Snow. Ice.

Russia opened his eyes slowly. The shining sun hit his eyes causing him to close them again.

He breathed in air. He could feel the coldness of the snow.

He smiled slightly.

He was alive again.

* * *

><p>Japan opened his eyes and lifted his head from the table. His body apparently had fallen over onto the table.<p>

He glanced around the room and grimaced slightly at the blood stains that were on the floor. Dried blood stains. It would take forever to clean them up.

He noted his cellphone was dead. Picking it up and standing, with his muscles protesting his every move however he ignored them, he walked to where his charger was and plugged it in.

He glanced at his house phone and saw messages for him.

He pressed the play button. The first was from Greece.

"_Japan? Are you alright? Please pick up. Japan come on. I am really worried. Japan? Did Turkey do something to you? Because you know I will kick his ass."_

Japan shook his head in amusement. The second message was also from Greece.

"_Japan I swear if you do not answer this next message I am going to very mad. And I will no longer give you kittens."_

He couldn't help but to laugh. Third message still from Greece.

"_Japan really! I am really worried! Please call me!"_

The next one was actually from China.

"_Japan didn't we have a meeting together? Why did you not come? And why is Greece calling me so often asking about you? Are you alright? Call me when you can. Aru."_

Japan shook his head in amusement. Forgoing to listen to the other messages he picked up the phone and dialed Greece's number.

There were three ringtones before a sleepy voice answered "Hello?"

"Greece? It's me."

* * *

><p>The phone ringing is what brought Germany out of his slumber. Automatically reaching for the phone, while ignoring his screaming limbs and rolling his brother off of his back, he brought the phone to his ear.<p>

"Hello?"

The most wonderful voice met his ears. "Germany? Are you okay? Are you awake?"

Germany felt all feeling leave his body.

"Italy?"

* * *

><p>It was the first G8 meeting since before the suicide of America. The other nations were apprehensive about attending and were fidgeting in their chairs slightly.<p>

Germany, Prussia, North Italy, South Italy, Japan and Russia all glanced up at the doors when England and France entered the room. Following behind them was Canada and a girl they easily recognized clad in a long dress.

The noise level increased instantly. Shouts of why is she here and what is going on filled the room.

England went to the front of the room and shouted "Shut. Up."

The room fell silent. He nodded in approval as he took his seat. France took his as well as Canada. After a moments hesitation Emily sat down in the chair meant for America.

"This past month or so." England started. "Has been rather hectic."

"That's an understatement." Prussia snorted.

Continuing on as if he hadn't heard Prussia England said "I have brought you here for this simple thing. Although America is now dead we owe him an apology."

"An apology for what!" Romano screeched. "For him killing us?"

England narrowed his eyes. "The reason for everything that has happened was this. We raped America. There is nothing else to call it. It was rape. Because of that he killed himself. I brought him back to life leading to his need for revenge. It all comes back to what we did."

"And where is America now?" Russia asked.

"Dead." France said. He nodded towards Emily who had been staring at the table in silence. "This little girl killed him."

"Pardon me however she is his daughter and worked beside him." Japan said. "Why on earth would she do that?"

"Because he killed my brother." Emily said quietly. "I could no longer listen to him because of that and he would've killed me if I hadn't killed him."

"You're his daughter?" Veneziano asked. Emily nodded. "Why haven't I seen you before?"

"You were the one that was sacrificed to bring me to life." she said. She pulled the necklaces around her neck and extended her arm towards him. "I believe this belongs to you."

Romano smacked Veneziano's arm when he reached for the necklaces. "Don't touch them! You don't know what she did to them." he said as he glared at her.

Emily shrugged as she placed them on the table. "Take them is you wish, I have no desire to hold onto them anymore."

"So how do we apologize to a dead man?" Germany asked.

"We will take care of that later." France said. "We have something else to deal with. The land of America has no personification and it needs one."

Canada glanced at Emily who shook her head at him. Ignoring her protests he stood and said "I think I have the perfect personification." he held his hand towards Emily. "Her."

Emily stood as well. "No."

"I don't see why not." France said with a smile. "She is the daughter of America after all."

"She has the blood of America running through her." England said. "The perfect candidate when you think of it."

Emily shook her head. "I wish to have nothing to do with my father!"

"This isn't something that you can decide on." Canada said. "And besides, I think the land has made its choice."

Emily stared up at Canada. "What do you mean?"

"When a personification dies the land rebirths them." Canada explained. "It gives them life again. However this time it didn't do it with America. Because it already choose you as its new personification."

"Why me?" she asked.

England shrugged. "Maybe because you are the only one that is left."

Canada took her hands in his and said gently "Look. What other choice do you have? Live the rest of your days as a human girl? With no family left and on your own in an unfamiliar time and place? Grow old and die? Or stay young forever and live forever?"

Emily shook her head. "I wish to rejoin my brother."

"You want to die?" France asked. After a moments hesitation she nodded.

"The fact that you hesitated." England pointed out. "Means that you are not completely certain that is what you want."

"Come on." Canada murmured. "Make up your mind."

"I propose that we have a vote." England said turning to the others. He glanced at Emily. "If we vote that you should become America, and that means all of us considering that America is a country that affects us all, will you become the new personification?"

Emily slowly nodded.

England turned back to the others. "Those in favor of the new personification being Emily raise your hand."

Immediately England, France, and Canada raised their hands. Veneziano slowly raised his hand as well. When his brother glared at him their eyes connected in silent communication. Romano was grumbling however he raised his arm as well.

Almost as one Prussia and Germany raised their arms. Russia slowly lifted his arm as well. After glancing around the room once and settling his eyes upon Emily Japan raised his arm as well.

England turned to Emily. "They have spoken. What do you say?"

Emily said nothing as she glanced around the room.

* * *

><p>America sighed as she leaned against the building they had just left.<p>

A World Meeting. With her formal introduction to the other nations of the entire world as the new personification of America.

Of course all of them had demanded to know what happened in the last month. With the disappearances of so many important nations it was bound to be noticed.

And finally the entire story came out. From the beginning to the end.

She sighed again before she walked forward. She was tired of the looks that other nations gave her as they left the building.

They had this meeting in New York for whatever reason. She was still trying to figure out everything that had come with being the new personification and with the year difference.

She missed her brother. Her twin. She was used to having him by her side, she missed his presence.

However he was dead now. And she was alive. Alive and the personification of America.

She glanced to her right and then her left. The complete contrast of boys and girls from this time to the time she was born. It was astounding.

And something that she had to get used to.

She glanced upwards and smiled. She knew that her brother was in heaven watching over her.

America smiled and continued forward towards her home.

**It's over. This was the last chapter.**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time in a different story.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:**** hey people!**

**I am writing this because so many people were disappointed with the previous ending. While I somewhat liked it I also realized that I left quite a few things out. Mostly it had to do with what they did to America and forgiveness.**

**So here it is, the real ending. **

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

America opened his eyes and looked around. He couldn't really tell where he was. The entire place was blank and white, as far as the eye could see.

However he heard someone singing lightly. A hymn he believed. America stood and looked around.

Anthony was sitting on the ground a few feet away, his eyes closed and one leg bent towards him. He was humming a song while somehow mouthing the words.

Anthony opened his eyes slowly and gazed at America.

"Hello father." he said.

"Anthony." America whispered. Tears started to fill his eyes as he recognized where they were. Limbo, the place after death and before your placement. "Anthony. I…"

Anthony held a hand up. "It's alright; I was uncomfortable living in that new world either way."

"That doesn't excuse me actions." America whispered. "Killing you, my own son."

Anthony shrugged. His eyes and a smile on his lips. He looked freer than he had ever since the moment of his second awakening.

Anthony shook his head in amusement at his father. He tilted his head back and continued humming his song.

"Where is Emily?" America asked almost afraid of the answer. "Did she die as well?"

"If she had." Anthony said almost lazily. "Then she would be here with us. She survived."

America breathed a sigh of relief. "At least she is alive."

"She didn't want to be however." Anthony said. "I was watching her for quite some time. She wanted to join us in death. However the other nations had different plans for her."

America looked at his son sharply. "What other plans?"

"Calm yourself father, they desire her to be the new America." Anthony said. "I had seen their thoughts. They believe that she will be easy to control so that they can gain what they wish from her."

America snarled, a sense of his rage returning.

"However they did not count on Canada being so protective over her." Anthony continued ignoring his father. "He is not allowed them to overstep any of their boundaries. And he is teaching Emily on recognizing and stopping that behavior. She is getting quite good at it too."

"So she is the new America?" Alfred, now he was Alfred and no longer America, asked.

Anthony glanced at him. "Was that not your plan from the beginning?"

Alfred blushed slightly. "I need to apologize to the both of you. For bringing you into something that had nothing to do with you. I was no better than England when he brought me back."

Anthony shrugged. "We never hated you for bringing us back, we were merely confused and later we were feeling used."

Alfred bowed his head. "I'm sorry son."

"I forgive you." Anthony said. "However I cannot speak for Emily."

"What happens now?" Alfred asked. "What happens to you and to me?"

Anthony gazed at him mournfully. "Unfortunately you committed two great sins father. You committed suicide and then you performed black magic to bring two more people back to life. The latter is a greater sin; you are trending in territory where only god can walk. You do not have the permission to enter heaven."

"What about you?" Alfred asked.

"I have been seen as an innocent being dragged into something I had no desire to be in." Anthony said. He smiled slightly. "I have been given back my place in heaven."

Alfred smiled. "Good."

"And…I spoke for you in the trials of souls." Anthony said slowly. "While my vouching cannot give you a place in heaven it takes you away from the fires of hell."

"So where do I go?" Alfred asked frowning.

Anthony smiled. "To where you desired to go to from the moment of your rebirth. To the darkness."

Alfred brightened. "The darkness." he whispered longingly.

Anthony nodded. "After I spoke for you it was an almost unanimous decision to place you there. If I had not known better I would have thought that it was because they were afraid you would rule over hell." Anthony joked.

Alfred laughed slightly as he looked at his son. "Where is Emily now?"

"Now? She is with Estonia." Anthony said. "The two had gotten quite close; I believe there is love nearing on the horizon. Or perhaps simply friendship, I do not desire to know more of that relationship."

"Estonia would be a good choice though." Alfred murmured under his breath.

Anthony shrugged as he looked to the side. When Alfred looked as he well he started slightly. It was almost like one of those old fashioned movies with the screen and projector where an image was being played out. The image being a G8 meeting with Emily standing and looking furious.

"You think you are forgiven?" she demanded. "What on earth makes you believe that you are forgiven for the crimes you committed?"

"If anything you should be begging us for forgiveness." Prussia retorted. "Seeing as it was you and your insane father that killed us."

"My insane father and I as you put it" America said coldly. "Would not have had a reason to kill you if all of you had not done what you did."

"Please understand we had done that for the better of things." England said.

"The better of things?" America screeched. "Raping a man for crimes that were out of his control is for the better of him?"

"Seeing as he is an irresponsible little brat, yes." Romano said. America looked close to throwing the chair she had been sitting in at him.

"I cannot understand." she said. "How so many of the world's most 'civilized'" she said the last word with as much sarcasm as possible "nations would be so willing to justify their actions with the simple words of irresponsible and brat."

"Perhaps you need a demonstration as well." Russia said leering at her. "Seeing as you are the new America, you need to be properly ordained."

America's eyes narrowed and the shadows curled around her as she hissed "Try and see just what will happen to you. I still have the powers that my father had left me, remember that."

America closed her eyes and sighed in hope to regain her composure; she looked at everyone in the room and opened her eyes.

"Everyone here." she said. "Is to go to my father's grave and properly apologize. If anyone does not" she raised her voice over the protests "Then I will show you personally just why father brought myself and my brother back to life in order to help with his quest for revenge. A revenge that I believe is completely justified in his doing."

"I like that she is finally getting confidence enough to yell at everyone." Anthony said.

Alfred couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face. "That's my little girl."

They continued to watch as the scene continued. America had gotten everyone to agree with her agreements and they were all gathering their belongings.

"Make no mistake." she said with one foot out the door. "That while I cannot speak for my father I myself can never forgive any of you for what you have done, remember that and pray for forgiveness. Or the hope that you will one day be forgiven."

Anthony glanced at his father. "Do you forgive them? Now or ever?"

Alfred slowly shook his head. "I can never forgive them."

Canada looked up from his papers when America came out of the room. He walked to her side and asked "So how did it go?"

America sighed. "They refused to listen and I had to threaten them, however they will go to my father's grave and apologize, seeing that it is all they are able to do."

"You did enough." Canada said. Uncle and niece walked together in silence as they left the building. America looked at Canada beseechingly.

"You are coming with me back home right?" she asked. "I still get so lonely there."

Canada nodded. "Of course I am."

America smiled.

"Although I thought you might've preferred Estonia's company to my own." Canada slyly said.

America blushed suddenly, the red color spreading among her face quickly.

"We are just friends." she whispered.

Canada snickered. "I've seen the way you guys look at each other, that isn't just friends."

America shook her head and quickly changed the subject. "It is still so weird being this personification, I am still having trouble getting used to all the new voices in my head."

Canada shrugged. "That's America, ten million different opinions and you hear them all. That's what you get for being a melting pot country."

Alfred shook his head in amusement. "I'm happy to see that they are so close now." he said softly.

Anthony nodded as he glanced around. "It's time to go father."

Alfred nodded slowly as he watched his son. "This is…the last time we will see each other, isn't it?"

"Most likely." Anthony said. He stepped forward and embraced his father. Father and son held onto one another as long as they were able to before separating.

"I love you son." Alfred said softly before turning and walking away.

Alfred heard his son's footsteps going into the other direction before there was a flash of light and when he turned to look back he was alone.

Alfred smiled and shook his head as he closed his eyes. The familiar tendrils of shadows and darkness were weaving around and onto him pulling him back into the wonderful and loving embrace of the darkness. A mother welcoming her child home.

Before he crossed back, in the back of his mind he could hear the nations talking to his grave and apologizing. Alfred sneered, as if he would ever forgive them for what they had done. They didn't deserve to be forgiven.

He knew Emily, no not Emily anymore it was America now, would do a good job in his place and make him proud. She knew how and what he had felt and would make sure not to trust any of them too much.

Alfred smiled and surrendered himself to the darkness.

**There! I hope that ending is much more better than the one before this one.**

**I don't think that sentence I just wrote made any sense but whatever.**

**This is the real ending; I don't really know where else I could take it.**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


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